The Effect You Have On Me
by Synbou
Summary: A dangerous acquaintance of Tom's shows up on Voyager Turn his life upside down.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Effect You Have On Me  
Author: Isabelle S.  
Series: Voyager  
Pairing: P/f, All  
Parts: 1/4  
Rating: R for language & adult matter subject(nothing graphic).  
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never  
did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount  
  
Archive: Sure, just tell me where.  
  
Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW  
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.   
  
Synopsis: A dangerous acquaintance of Tom's shows up on Voyager.  
  
The Effect You Have On Me  
By Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***   
  
I didn't need to be the empath that I was to sense that Commander  
Chakotay was attracted to me. In fact, he wasn't the only man  
who was, but Tom surely wasn't the one.  
  
"You still haven't told us how you managed to find your way into  
the Delta Quadrant, Ms Danya," the Native American reminded me  
with a smile.   
  
"That's easy," came Tom's voice more icy than anyone in this room  
had ever heard. "She made a pack with the Devil. Here to finish  
the job?"  
  
"Sort of," I replied.   
  
Voyager's senior staff looked from Tom to me stunned by his  
comment. The commander stiffen beside me. I felt Janeway's  
growing concern and her sudden need to be protective of Tom.   
Torres was getting defensive. Young Harry was still unsure of  
how to feel. The Vulcan was ready for anything. However, they  
did not know that it was impossible to interfere with my work.   
  
I stepped closer to Tom. He was holding my gaze with a placid  
face. His crystal blue eyes were as cold as winter. Hell had  
frozen over, burying a good and decent young man under its icy  
surface. Sadly, I was partially responsible.   
  
In the drama that I was creating in the middle of Voyager's  
bridge, he and I took center stage. He was standing tall with a  
sense of self-respect which he certainly didn't have the last  
time  
we'd met. With a glare as dangerous as an icepick, he hushed  
our audience to be quiet. This was between him and I.   
  
"Do you know how much the *Devil* offered me all those years  
ago?" I challenged him.  
  
Tom didn't reply. I wasn't expecting him to do so.   
  
"He offered me 250 000 credits for me to kill you. I was able  
rise the bid to half a million. When I found you at Sandrine's,  
I realized that I would even have the pleasure of fucking that  
beautiful sensual body of yours all night for the same price."  
  
As I circled around him like vulture, I took in a deep breath and  
allowed myself a short laugh at the irony of the situation that  
*I* had complicated.   
  
"When the critical moment came, I found myself with a bit of a  
problem because there was *one* thing that I hadn't expected. I  
hadn't expected to find such a gentle soul in you, Tom Paris."  
  
He snorted.   
  
Aside from the confusion and the concern they were feeling, I  
sensed a common sadness in his colleagues and friends in the face  
of his reaction. They knew what I was talking about. Of course,  
Tom wouldn't take my word for it. I couldn't blame him. Still,  
I went on with my confession nonetheless.  
  
"As we laid in bed, I let you fall asleep. There were no need  
for you to be awake for what I had to do anyway. Even more  
compelling, I felt that you didn't deserve to be. I caressed  
your warm cheek as I enjoyed the sight of your handsome face for  
a few more minutes. It got me thinking -- a big mistake, I know.   
But I couldn't stop myself.   
  
"There, in my arms, was laying a young man whom I was there to  
kill, who was ready to return ten times over the smallest amount  
of comfort he could ever receive. I could feel his fears, his  
doubts, his overwhelming sorrow, his self-hatred... It touched a  
part deep down inside me which I had forgot was there. How could  
someone so young and so beautiful could be broken like this  
already? Why had I been offered 500 000 credits to kill this  
troubled but sweet kid?  
  
"Why was I feeling this way? What was it about you that was  
making you so different from the others. You had triggered  
something in me which I hadn't felt in almost thirty years.   
  
"Actually, I think it was closer to twenty-five years. It  
doesn't really matter. The point is that at the time I had made  
a mistake. A nearly fatal mistake. I had got myself caught by  
one of my target's gaze. I had froze under his assertive  
scrutiny. His blue eyes were piercing through the dark. They  
were full of life which his fear was only slightly dimming their  
light.  
  
"As chaos broke through his house, his attention was directed  
elsewhere. I took that moment to flee, leaving behind the cries  
of children and the shining beams of firing phasers. *I* fled too  
scared to even think about what had just happened to me.  
  
"From that moment on, I made sure that I would never make a  
mistake like that again. A promise that I had kept until that  
night.   
  
"You stirred and you looked up at me. I sighed with irony as I   
understood. *Your* blue eyes were the ones that had reached the  
little humanity still inside me. Although, the light, which I  
had seen in them, had became a barely self-sustainable flame.   
  
"'Damn your eyes, Tom Paris' I cursed bitterly. 'They set me  
off-balance.' You smiled at me. You were real proud of yourself  
and I felt the urge to bite back. I put my hand around your  
throat and held it thigh. "'I've been sent here to kill you, Tom  
Paris. But now, I'm not quite sure what to do'.  
  
"You stared back at me with shock and pain. I let you go. You  
rolled away from me and sat on the side of the bed. 'You're not  
so surprise,' I voiced, a bit taken aback by your reaction.   
You shrugged. 'I have the uncanny ability to bring the worst out  
of people,' you replied. 'Believe it or not,' I challenged.   
'You also have the uncanny ability to bring the best out of  
people too.'  
  
"You looked at me with disbelief as you're doing now."  
  
I stopped walking and faced him. Again, we had one of those  
staring matches.  
  
"Don't you understand? You're my ticket to redemption and I'm  
ready to use it."  
  
"Fuck you, Lady."  
  
"I'd loved to, but it isn't gonna happen," I spitted back in his  
face before he had the chance to say anything else. "The clock  
is ticking and our *train* is about to leave. One doesn't live  
561 years -- hell, one doesn't survive 345 of those years in my  
line of work -- without knowing a few things by the rules of time  
and how to go around them."  
  
"I don't owe you anything," Tom pointed out.  
  
"You don't have to," I replied.  
  
In two quick movements, I viciously brought him down to his  
knees. I put my hands on his temples and summoned my empathic  
powers.   
  
"Remember," I ordered him. I felt him tremble as his mind was  
invaded by a nightmare long forgotten "Look. This is how we  
first met. This is what you saw. Those are *your* memories."   
  
I was ready to catch him as his body slumped forward.   
  
"What do you want from me?" Tom asked just above a whisper.   
  
I lifted his head so that I could meet his haunted blue eyes.  
  
"That night, in Marseille, we talked. I asked you if there was  
something that you would have been ready to live for. You told  
me about this promise that you had made to yourself a long time  
ago. You had tried for years to live up to it but it seemed at  
one point that the harder you were trying, the worst your choices  
were becoming. And yet, you would still be willing to give it  
another try if you had a chance to do so."  
  
I swallowed hard.  
  
"But what I really learned from you, Tom Paris, was that it's  
never too late to change one's mind. I can help you live up to  
that promise of yours. I did it before. Please, let me help  
you," I finished with a cracked voice.   
  
His hand reached up to my cheek and he cast away a tear which I  
had never felt coming. Was I really crying? I couldn't  
remember the last time I had.  
  
"Don't make me beg," I pleaded. "Please, don't make me beg."  
  
Tom nodded and we boarded the *train of time* not a moment too  
soon.   
  
***  
  
TBC,   
  
Thanks to Louise and Monica for beta-reading.   
  
Thanks for reading  
Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Copyrights @ September 2000.  
  
  
  



	2. part 2

Title: The Effect You Have On Me  
Author: Isabelle S.  
Series: Voyager  
Pairing: P  
Parts: 2/4  
Rating: R   
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never  
did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount  
  
Archive: Sure, just tell me where.  
  
Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW  
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.   
  
Synopsis: Can Tom fulfil the promise that he made to himself?   
  
The Effect You Have On Me  
By Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***   
  
I don't know what possessed me to go along with this mad woman.   
Still in a blink of an eye, I wasn't on Voyager anymore. What  
was I expecting to accomplish by following her? I sincerely  
doubted that *I*, of all people, could ever change the past.   
Could I still believe in that promised I made to myself  
so long ago? Could I still care after all what had happen?  
  
I felt Danya's hand pull away from my face and I immediately  
stood on my feet. My eyes quickly adapted to my dark  
surroundings, revealing to me what I had already suspected to  
find. We were in the family house. The one I had lived in until  
my Dad had throw me out. The one I had wanted to leave ever  
since *THIS* fateful night.   
  
Along with this realization, my mouth went suddenly dry. I felt  
a sickening knot fill my throat. I felt so tense and nauseated,  
I feared that I would throw up right there in the living room.  
  
Danya grasped a hold of my shoulders and shook violently.  
  
"Pull yourself together," she ordered me in a harsh whisper. "My  
associates and I will be there shortly. We have to get your  
family out of the house."  
  
I instinctively looked over the staircase leading to the second  
floor. I brought my breathing under control. I looked back at  
my companion with a renewed faith. Maybe I could change the  
past after all.  
  
She smiled at me. A beautiful and friendly smile.  
  
She nodded.  
  
Without wasting anymore time, we went upstair. I quickly ran  
through the hall and pushed open my parent's bedroom door. Mom  
and Dad were sound asleep oblivious to the drama that was about  
to happen. I bit my lower lips and made my way to Dad's side of  
the bed.  
  
"Ad -- Captain Paris, wake up," I said in a low voice.   
  
He moaned in his sleep.   
  
I would need to more assertive. God, why was I so nervous? I  
was a trained Starfleet officer after all. I could do this and   
I had to do it professionally. Yet, I realized that the son in  
me took over when I heard myself say:  
  
"Dad, you have to wake up," I shook him and finally was rewarded  
by his sleepy eyes flicking open. "Sir, you and your family  
are in danger. We have to get out of the house, now."  
  
"What?" he asked confused. He looked around quickly searching  
for something for someone.  
  
"My son? Where's my son? I heard him call me," he said  
worriedly.   
  
Dad was genuinely concerned for me.  
  
I swallowed hard as I reminded myself that Dad was actually  
worried about the child that I used to be. It was feeling that I  
haven't seen in his eyes in such a long time that I took it at  
heart regardless.   
  
"Your son is all right, Sir," I replied. *I am right here,* I  
wanted to add, but couldn't. "I don't have time to explain. We  
have to go." I turned my attention to my Mom. "Elisabeth, wake  
up."  
  
I moved away to let Dad get out of the bed and made way to my  
Mom's side.   
  
"What's happening?" she asked as she was so rudely awaken.   
"The children?"  
  
"The Children are being tended to. I don't have time to  
explained, Ma'am," I answered her as I pulled her out of bed.   
"We have to leave."   
  
Her eyes met mine and she gasped.   
  
"Tom...? Is it really you?" she asked.  
  
My mouth went dry and I fought back tears of joy. Could Mom  
really know who I was. Of course she could, she always loved me.  
  
I stopped her delicate hand from reaching my face despite the  
fact that I was yearning for her touch. Instead, I pulled her  
towards me and protectively sheltered her with my body. I put a  
finger in front of my month ordering her to be silent.  
  
With a phaser that he had found in a drawer of the bedside table,  
Dad was by our side in a matter of seconds. He was fully alert  
now. The Starfleet captain and father was ready for a fight. I  
was as in awe by his demeanor as I was as a little kid.   
  
I would have given the world to be as proud and assertive, to be  
more like him...  
  
"The power is totally out," he informed me. "The transporter  
won't work."  
  
"That's why we have to get out of the house," I replied pressing  
them out of room.   
  
As we enter the hallway we all saw Danya standing in font of my  
room. She pushed my younger self to the floor and held up her  
phaser.  
  
"NOOOO!" cried my mother.  
  
There was no time to say anything, no time to explain as Dad  
lifted the phaser and took aim. To the drumming of my heart in  
my ears, marking the precious passing seconds, I pushed Mom out  
of the way and threw my arms around Dad's. My weight brought both  
of us tumbling to the ground.   
  
As he fell, he lifted his arms in a last desperate move to kill  
the threat to his beloved son's life. When he hit the ground,  
his arms folded backwards bringing the phaser level to my eyes,  
where it went off....  
  
I watched as the red laser came toward me and could not help but  
think how beautiful a phaser hot looked from that angle.  
  
Then... there was darkness  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
Thanks to Louise for Beta reading and getting me out of a major  
hole!  
  
Thanks for reading  
Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Copyrights @ January 2001  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. part 3

Title: The Effect You Have On Me  
Author: Isabelle S.  
Series: Voyager  
Pairing: P  
Parts: 3/4  
Rating: R   
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never  
did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount  
  
Archive: Sure, just tell me where.  
  
Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW  
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.   
  
Synopsis: Amending the past is not an easy thing.  
  
The Effect You Have On Me  
By Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***  
  
The horror of what had just happened didn't hit me right away as  
I kept staring at those, now closed, blue eyes that reminded me  
of my son's. I couldn't understand what had just happened. The  
man, wearing some sort of uniform and with a Starfleet comm  
badge, had awaken us in the middle of the night in order to save  
us from a threat. However, had prevented me from saving my son.   
Now this man with a familiar face was dying into my arms.  
  
"T-Tom..." I heard Elisabeth shaken voice cry behind me. "What  
have you done?" she asked me as she frantically made her way to  
my side. "You shut our son, Owen! You shut OUR SON!."  
  
"Our son?" I echoed confused. What was she talking about? Had  
she lost her mind? "Tom!" I called to my youngest child, hoping  
with all my will that he was still alive.  
  
I saw him come out of his bedroom guided by the woman that I  
had seen aim a phaser in his direction moments before. The  
instant Tom was freed from the stranger's protective embrace, he  
ran as quick as he could toward us and came crashing into his  
mother's arms.   
  
"Danya killed a bad lady in my room," young Tom explained to his  
mother and me.  
  
"Danya?" I asked looking up at the stranger who was coming our  
way. Her eyes were fixed on the face of the man I was still  
holding. As she came closer, I could see tears running  
down her cheek.   
  
"She's a friend of the family," Tom answered my question.  
  
"Yes, she is," Elisabeth told our son before kissing his forehead  
one more time.   
  
Danya knelt beside her fallen companion. "Tom..." she said  
painfully.   
  
"I'm here, Danya," my four-year old tried to comfort her.   
  
"I know, Sweetie," she replied, smiling back at him.   
  
She quickly brushed her tears away before looking back at me with  
cold dark eyes.  
  
"We lost time, we have to get you out of the house," she said  
sternly. " More people are on their way to make sure that your  
dead."  
  
"You all go ahead, I'll follow you," I ordered them. "Please,  
bring my family to safety," I plead to Danya   
  
"Owen, you're coming with us," Elisabeth protested.  
  
"He's still alive," I argued, referring to the man Danya had  
called Tom, that Elisabeth had called our son . "I'm not leaving  
without him."  
  
"You shot him in the HEAD," Danya brutally reminded me. "He's  
not going to make it. Now, come on!"  
  
"I'm not leaving without him," I repeated stubbornly. If there  
was a chance that this grown-up Tom was my son, I surely wasn't  
going to leave him behind, especially if he was still alive.   
  
There was hope.   
  
Danya sighed. She turned her attention towards my youngest child  
who was still snuggled into his mother's arms.   
  
"Tom, come here," she said. The little one did as he was told.   
She took a hold of his shoulders and forced him to look at her  
straight in the eyes. "Tom, my friend wanted to make you safe,  
but he can't anymore. It's up to you now. Your sisters are  
hiding in the cellar, can you bring them and your mommy to your  
secret place? Can you do that?"  
  
The child nodded.   
  
I smiled to Elisabeth, encouraging her to go along with our son.   
  
Quickly, the two disappeared down the staircase.  
  
I stumbled on my hand and knees. I was ready to lift Tom over my  
shoulder when Danya stopped me.   
  
She was looking at me with pure hatred. Shivers ran up my spine.   
  
"In twenty years," she began coldly. "You will offer me half a  
million credits for me to kill your son. It seemed that you  
didn't need me after all, did you?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" I asked taken aback by her  
declaration.   
  
"In my Tom's reality, his mother was killed trying to protect  
him over there in front of his room. You never forgave him for  
the loss and despised him for all the grief that followed  
throughout the years."  
  
"No," I denied. "Me not loving my son is impossible."  
  
"Is it?" she challenged.   
  
I looked down at the dying man on the floor. There were heavy  
lines beneath his eyes, around his month. They were signs of  
sadness. Somehow, deep down, I knew this young soul had known  
torment.   
  
"So, Tom came back into the past to save his mother?" I ventured.   
  
"No, Tom came back to fulfilled a promised he made on this very  
night. You see Mr. Paris, Tom remembered the man you were  
until now. He remembered how strong, protective, and loving you  
were. He promised himself that he would protect you from being  
hurt ever again. That is, even if it meant for him to lie and cover  
up the truth in order to do so."  
  
"He didn't need to do that," I protested.  
  
"Things were different for Tom and things will be different for  
your little four-year old," she said before gazing down the  
staircase.   
  
"What can I do to help?" I asked in a desperate plea.   
  
"You stay with him while I go take care of some visitors," she  
replied already making her way down the steps.  
  
Again, I looked down at Tom's face.   
  
My son.  
  
I had killed MY SON.  
  
I had killed a child of mine whom I had already turned my back  
upon. How could that ever happen? I didn't want to know.   
  
Tears came pouring down.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Son. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to harm you,  
Tom. I love you too much," I rambled as I caressed his forehead.   
  
"... Love me...?" I heard just above a whisper.   
  
"Tom!? Tom, yes I love you, Son," I assured.   
  
Unseeing eyes searched for me.   
  
"I'm here, Tom," I told him, still caressing his pale face.   
"Daddy's here, Tiger. Everything's going to be okay. You have  
to hold on."  
  
"I... wanted you to be... proud of me," he breathed.   
  
"I am, Tom. I'm so proud of you for being there for your  
family."  
  
"I wanted... I wanted to be more like you," he confessed.   
  
"Oh Tom, you can only be yourself and I love you for who you are.   
You have to believe me Tiger, I love you."  
  
Tom answered me with a beautiful smile. "I love you too, Dad,"  
  
"I know."  
  
As his last breath left him, I could only hope that he had heard  
me.   
  
My gaze met Danya's who had been standing in the staircase for  
God knows how long.   
  
"It's over," she told me.  
  
"I know,"  
  
Without another word she walked liked a zombie to Tom's  
bedroom.  
  
"Damn!" I heard her cursed. "I'm still alive and she's gone."  
  
With that, she disappeared into thin air.   
  
And so did my son's dead body.   
  
  
TBC  
  
***  
Big Thanks to Louise once again.  
  
Thanks for reading  
Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Copyrights @ January 2001  
  
  
  



	4. part 4

Title: The Effect You Have On Me  
Author: Isabelle S.  
Series: Voyager  
Pairing: P  
Parts: 4/4  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never  
did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount.  
  
Archive: Sure, just tell me where.  
  
Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW  
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.   
  
Synopsis: What's next?  
  
The Effect You Have On Me  
By Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***  
  
I saw him walked in through the door. He obviously wasn't too  
sure what to expect. He looked in my direction and our eyes met.  
I smiled at him warmly. I was so happy to see him here. I noticed  
his demeanor relax in response to my welcoming greeting. He  
smiled back at me with a gratitude. With a nod, I encouraged him  
to go and join his son, who was seated in the corner.   
  
I tried to look busy, minding my own business, but I couldn't  
help but keep an eye on the two of them. The place was empty  
except for one other regular customer. I was grateful for that.   
  
"Son," I heard the father say, bring the young man out of his day  
dreaming.   
  
"Admiral," the cadet acknowledged snapping to attention. "I'm  
sorry, Sir. I didn't notice you come in."   
  
"It's all right, Tom. Relax. I'm not here as the 'Admiral'," he  
replied with a grin.   
  
"Sometimes it's hard to tell," Tom mumbled.   
  
"Next time, I'll try to remember to change first," his father  
said lightly.   
  
The comment stole a small smile from Tom. It was more a gesture  
of politeness, but it was still a smile. Smiles was hard to come  
by ever since Tom had lost three of his best friends in a  
terrible accident a few days earlier.   
  
"Can we sit down?" Owen Paris asked.   
  
Tom simply nodded before taking back his seat. His gaze was  
downcast on the table top. It was such an uncharacteristic  
display coming from this usually outgoing and social young man.   
  
"You still want to talk about it, don't you?" Tom voiced a bit  
accusingly.   
  
"Not if you don't want to, Tiger," his father reassured him.  
"What you're going through is very difficult at the moment. I  
just want to let you know that we're there, your mother and I, if  
you ever needed to talk. You know that you don't have to be  
afraid to talk to us about anything, don't you Son?"   
  
Tom looked away from the table top. He was fidgeting nervously in  
his chair. He looked like a small animal ready to crawl in the  
nearest hiding corner.   
  
Pauvre Petit.   
  
  
"I can't.. I can't stop thinking about it," Tom confessed after a  
long and heavy silence.   
  
"That's understandable, Son," his father told him on a soft tone.  
"You survived a very traumatizing accident. I know it's very  
difficult to go on after the loss of our friends. I'm afraid that  
it will take sometime before it goes away. But, I assure you that  
it will get better with time. You have to grieve for your friends  
first."   
  
Tom shook his head as he tried to find a way how to voice what  
was on his mind.   
  
"I don't understand," he utter harshly in a sudden outburst of  
anger. He got to his feet and paced restlessly. "I keep replaying  
what happened over and over in my head. I still don't understand.  
I don't know what went wrong!?"   
  
"Tell me again what happened," Owen offered. "Maybe I can help  
you figure it out."   
  
"I'm tired, tired of retelling it," Tom protested. "I don't want  
to think about it anymore. I just want it to be over. Why can't  
it be over?"   
  
"I know it's hard, Tom, but we have to know what caused the  
accident," the Admiral said. "It's not going to go away before we  
do. We owe this to your friends and their families, don't you  
think? You owe it to yourself. Please, tell me again what  
happened."   
  
Tom fought with himself as he kept pacing.   
  
"What if..." the Cadet trailed off.   
  
"What if what?" Owen prompted.   
  
"What if I did something wrong?"   
  
"Is that what you're afraid of? Do you think you did something  
wrong?" the older man asked carefully maintaining his composure.   
  
"I don't know," Tom answered quickly. He risked a swift sideways  
look to his father.   
  
I could see the shameful expression on his young face as he  
turned his head back in my direction. My heart went to him.   
  
"You would be very disappointed in me, wouldn't you?" he said.   
  
"Maybe," his father reply truthfully.   
  
"You'd be hurt," Tom added.   
  
I don't exactly know what prompted Owen Paris to get to his feet  
and comfort his son by taking a hold of his shoulders, although I  
could make an educated guess.   
  
"Tom look into my eyes and tell me the truth," Owen ordered. "Are  
you afraid to tell us all that did happen at Caldik Prime because  
you think that it's going to hurt me?"   
  
Tears escaping from Tom's red-rimed blue eyes were his answer.   
  
Owen pulled his son into a hug as his body was shaken by  
uncontrollable sobs.   
  
"It's very... loving of you to try to protect me from hurt,  
Tiger," the father told his son. "But, if you made a mistake, you  
will have to take responsibility for it. You know that." Owen  
gently pushed Tom away so that they could make eye contact. "Son,  
I can never be disappointed in you if you stand for the truth,"  
he added him.   
  
"You'll be there?" Tom wondered worriedly.  
  
  
"Of course," Owen assured him. "I love you, Son."   
  
Despite myself, I shed a bittersweet tear as I watched them  
leave, Tom still wrapped in his father's arm.   
  
"How about another glass a wine?" I suggested to the only  
customer. "I feel like making a toast."   
  
Danya agreed somewhat reluctantly.   
  
"I just wish we could have prevented him from going through this  
terrible ordeal, Sandrine," she confessed.   
  
"I know, ma Cherie. But, but some things are meant to happen."   
  
She sighed.   
  
"Now dry those tears away," I ordered her.   
  
"You're right," she said. "I just hope that this Tom Paris has  
such an effect on me..."   
  
"On us all, ma belle. On us all."   
  
***  
  
The End  
  
**  
Big Thanks to Louise and Monica once again.  
  
Thanks for reading  
Isabelle S.  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Copyrights @ January 2001  
  
  
  
  



End file.
